Chasing Her Demons
by SpecialAgentZiva
Summary: She was crying despite herself, and her heart beat wildly as she tried not to scream. Her hands reached for the sleek black phone in her jeans but found nothing. Now she could panic. - Tiva, sequel to Jealousy
1. That Dream Again

**A/N: I decided to do a sequel to Jealousy. This is called "Chasing Her Demons" and it should give you a bit of insight as to what this is about. Enjoy for me, okay? I don't own NCIS, but I guess I own Charlee Hunter. This is the beginning so it's rather short, but I have to start somewhere.**

People often refer to parts of their past that haunt them as their "demons;" these demons which they wish to forget and move on from, ridding their minds of the memories connected to the traumatic events that comes with such demons. In sleep, they are often visited by demons, even though they know – at least in the waking world – that these demons will most likely never come back.

Most likely.

Some people aren't so lucky.

_***_

_Alight above DC, the moon glares down at the city below. Normally this would be calming, but on that night, it was terrifying. It seemed to hold all of the fury of the murderers she hunted and the families demanding answers. However, she was not focused on this simple detail._

_She was crying despite herself, and her heart beat wildly as she tried not to scream. Her hands reached for the sleek black phone in her jeans but found nothing. Now she could panic._

_As she felt her shirt ripped over her head, she cried out loudly, only to feel a fist to the side of her head. She gulped back some of the fear and tried to regain her composure and push the man off. He just smiled wickedly and ripped his own shirt off._

_There's no Tony to save her this time._

Ziva's eyes opened abruptly and she shot up in bed, hand instantly reaching for the gun that lay, discarded last night, on the end table beside her bed. Her breath came out short and quick as she tried to come to grips with her surroundings. This was not her apartment three weeks ago. This was not even her apartment.

Slowly, she lowered her gun back onto the table and turned her head to look at the man beside her. Only a moment ago he'd been sleeping, but now his eyes were wide open and spiked with concern. He reached out a large hand to take hers and she gladly accepted it, wrapping her fingers with his.

"Ziva," he murmured and sat up to allow him to pull himself closer to her. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded automatically but felt his arms wrap around her anyway. Ziva accepted the offer of comfort and snuggled against him, feeling his warm lips press tenderly against the side of her neck. "I'm okay… I think."

"That dream again?" he whispered against her neck and he felt her nod against him. "It'll be okay, trust me. I won't let him get to you again. As far as I know, Charlee's gone."

"I don't want to see him again," she admitted, pressing closer to him if possible. "Tony, what day is it?"

"No idea," he grinned in reply, moving his head so that it was on top of hers. Her eyes were drooping and hair matted; he felt instantly guilty. How had he not noticed her lack of sleep last night?

_It was a late night. For all of us._

"I hope we do not have to work," came the muffled reply as she shifted to allow her hands to splay delicately on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart under her fingertips. "I am tired."

Tony smiled and pulled the blanket up around them as best as he could with one hand, letting the soft white cloth fall at about her knees. "I know, I'm tired, too," he admitted. "We should be okay as long as Gibbs doesn't call."

"I know," she whispered, nuzzling into his neck. "Tony, how did we get here?"

"How did we… wait," he paused and stared at her, trying to figure out her thoughts. "What?"

"Just three weeks ago we were fighting," she whispered, barely audible. "It was my fault with Charlee and all, but I hardly expected us to be lying together. Like this."

"Why not," he questioned quietly.

"Think about it. How did we get here?" she questioned again, shifting her arm to wrap it around his neck.

"Charlee… assault…" he paused to gauge her reaction before continuing, "…broke his nose… saved you… fell asleep with you in my arms… told you… you kissed me two days later – knew you couldn't resist me -"

Ziva pinched him lightly at this and he yelped. "That wasn't fair!"

"What wasn't fair, my little hairy butt?" she asked, faking innocence.

"Don't 'what wasn't fair' me!"

"Whatever, Tony, I am tired."

He smiled, waiting patiently for her eyes to close and for her to slip into a deep sleep. Despite his best efforts, his eyes closed first, leaving her to listen to his quiet breathing for many minutes before finally giving in to sleep again.

_In his arms, she'd feel no fear._

_He'd save her this time._


	2. Foreign Emotions

**A/N: Yup, long time since I've updated. :c Sorry about that. I'm trying to update a lot of my old stories, though I really don't have much for inspiration right now. But you DO get this. c: Enjoy**

**I don't own NCIS, but if I had the money, I might.**

When she awoke again, bleak rays of sunlight dyed the bedroom's walls a soft gold. Her sleep-tousled hair hung over her face as she slowly sat up, doing her best not to disturb the sleeping man beside her. She allowed herself a yawn before, slowly, she stood. It was still early - she'd planned to be awake earlier, but the nightmare had drained her, and today, sleep was welcome.

But her run could not be delayed forever, and work could hardly wait. Ziva stretched to the side, her bright eyes scanning the horizon through a tiny window. It looked warm, she decided, and thus shorts should be fine for today. With this thought in mind, she slipped out of her rumpled clothing and into her sleek, tight running outfit.

Tony moved behind her and she paused, somewhat unsure. Would he be alright by himself? She hardly wanted him to wake up alone… _No_, she thought. _He knows of my run, he shouldn't panic._

The morning air was crisp and cool, but nevertheless comfortable enough to run in without need of a jacket. Ziva stopped for a moment outside the apartment, once more scanning the skyline, before she began to run, her pace even and steady. She'd left her IPod at her own apartment, and would run in silence this morning - a fact she readily accepted.

Since what they'd named the "Incident" with Charlee, she'd preferred it that way. Silence would keep her senses sharpened, her mind focussed on the task at hand. She could run comfortably.

Her shadow was cast short on the grass, her shoes barely whispering against the pavement. Ziva smiled at the utter stillness of the morning, such contrast to the activity of the night. Mornings had always been her time of peace.

Behind her, footsteps sounded, but she refused to turn, refused to acknowledge. She knew that, if she turned, she'd only throw herself into higher paranoia, and she'd be tempted to stop her workout. She only quickened her pace, holding her breath and counting the steps until she'd be back at Tony's apartment.

Yet the footsteps seemed to speed up behind her, perfectly in tune with her movement. She shuddered and forced herself to ignore it.

_It's nothing,_ the woman reasoned, _nothing I can't handle. Probably another jogger. I am going to have to get my mind off of Charlee or I am going to be paranoid for life._

It was with this mindset that she managed to continue her run, though her paranoia grew nevertheless. The footsteps seemed to be constant - surely another jogger would not be following the exact same route! There had been no one leaving the apartment complex when she had - there would be no reason to follow every step, no reason to be perfectly in tune with her jog!

Ziva began to sprint as she turned the corner to the apartment complex, forcing her muscles to work as they never had before. She felt as though she was running for her life, but from what she knew not; she only knew the paranoia, the feeling. Something was wrong.

Something _had_ to be wrong. No one in their right mind followed another jogger so closely - so… so perfectly!

She found herself all too eager to stop at the door, though she couldn't help but look behind her. Her eyes grew wide and she stepped into the building as quickly as she could, attempting to stop herself from shaking.

Nothing.

There had been nothing there, no one behind her. But she'd been so sure… she bit her lip and continued to stare. No, this wasn't right. She wasn't insane, there _had_ to have been someone behind her. Ziva drew a deep breath and rested her head on the door, staring out in silence.

The fear, the panic - normally such foreign emotions to her. And yet, she'd felt that every second of her run. The growing sense of dread, the need to scream, the internal struggle that only pushed her further into paranoia.

What would she tell Tony?

Ziva slowly backed away from the door and turned, closing her eyes for a mere moment. She drove down the emotions and simply stood there, counting the moments until she'd have to go back before Tony began to worry.

When she opened them, the fear only came back, intensified now.

Something - anything - wasn't right.

But what? She only increased her pace, taking the stairs two at a time, her heart beating double.

_No no no no no._


End file.
